"Boss says to take the purple one. This one's good as dead."
It's like hearing someone talk while you're underwater. Raphael groans as he's kicked onto his back but he can't bring himself to move. Everything's fuzzy. Everything hurts. His eyes drift shut again and he faintly hears an engine roaring, fading away.
"Raph! Raphael!"
Fuck, he messed up. He messed up bad, didn't he? Donatello was right, after all, about everything he said. He didn't have to be a baby and quit over it. Maybe if he had just sucked it up and stayed in the lair—
"Raphael, wake up! Despiértate!"
Someone's shaking him and he slowly opens his eyes to see Taylor's blurry silhouette hovering over him. He groans.
"Tay...?"
"Oh my god, what happened?" she demands.
"Not...safe..." he mutters.
"Would you quit it with the protection shit for one second?!" she snaps. "Dios mio, you look like someone ran you over!"
"Feels...like it..."
He winces as she tries to push him into a sitting position. "Fuck, you're heavy."
He can't even try to help. It feels like his muscles won't listen to him. After all that work he put into them, they betray him like this?
His head lifts, just for a second, and when it rests again, it's on a soft yet solid familiar surface. He'd recognize her thighs anywhere. He exhales, trying to force his eyes open more, blinking again and again to try and clear the haze.
She strokes his head as gently as she can and god, he's glad she didn't quit. He's so glad she followed his dumb ass over here instead of leaving him to his devices. She's warm and she smells good and he's just...so glad she's here.
His brain feels funny.
"We have to get you back to the lair," she says, her voice pinched with urgency. "I can't carry you."
He nods, just barely. "Gonna...try." He shifts his leg, trying to sit up, but a wave of nausea washes over him and he flops against her lap again. "Nope...not yet."
"Okay, okay. Rest. We'll...we'll get there."
----------
"You sure this is a good idea?" Destiny asks. Leonardo frowns a little and she adds, "I have total faith in you, seriously, but...it feels weird doing this without the guys."
Leonardo stares at the Italian restaurant ahead of them, arms crossed over his chest. There's a metal sign on the door that declares "We don't serve mutants." If there were any doubt about who's inside, it's gone now.
He sighs. "We don't have much of a choice. Let's go."
Leonardo leads the way. Destiny, Sarina, Leatherhead, Slash, and Doctor Rockwell fall in behind him. Leonardo makes a point of ripping down the metal sign, bending it in half as he walks with purpose into the lion's den.
From the second they open the doors to the Don's private dining room, tensions rise. The room itself is long and narrow, the red velvet walls adorned with paintings in ornate gold frames. Every table has candles on it and a giant chandelier dangles from the ceiling. Aside from the handful of faceless goons, there are four men of any notable intrigue: two greying older men with identical faces, although one has an old bullet wound scar on his cheek, a man with a square, stubbled jaw and a sleek pompadour and sunglasses, and the one who can only by the Don himself. He sits at the furthermost table, taking an entire six-top for himself that's laden with food and drink. He's the biggest man in the room, both in sheer size and weight.
YOU ARE READING
Together As Mutants (Book Six)
FanfictionNew York is at peace. Shredder has been defeated, his minions scattered, and the Kraang have been neutralized. The threat of Mutacorp is no more. The Purple Dragons still operate in the slummy alleyways of the great city, but with no one to pay them...